Page 38 of Synodic

I wanted to keep reveling in his comfort but he dropped his hand from my chest, frowning as if he still wanted blood in exchange for my abrasions. I frowned back, wanting to let him know I was stronger than my easily bruised skin.

“I came here intentionally this time, Rowen. Even after what happened with Graem,” I said firmly. “I chose to come back on my own terms. I could have denied whatever it is that I am, fought it, or laid around waiting to see where I appeared next, but I didn’t. I set my mind to coming here, and that’s exactly what I did.”

Rowen’s rigid body loosened a fraction, and he raised a dark eyebrow. “You mean you set your intention to coming here, to this exact spot?” he asked with interest, his eyes casually darting from my face to where I sat.

“Well, no, not exactly…” I paused as it dawned on me. “Why? Whose bed is this?”

A dark smile flashed across his stubbled face. “Mine.”

The blood drained from my cheeks. I had unconsciously willed myself into Rowen’s bed, and not even for the first time today. I’d been here before I truly set my intention on seeing him again. Somewhere deep in my mind, I had always been searching for Rowen. But before I could fully admit it to myself, my body had gone ahead and beat me to it, bringing me right to his sheets.

I felt betrayed and exposed by my conspicuous body. It appeared she had a mind of her own.

“Imagine my surprise when, after all this time, you end up right in my bed,” he said, a dark smirk lifting his lips.

I jumped, scrambling awkwardly through the tangled sheets and netted drapery. “Don't flatter yourself,” I said, trying to regain my composure after tumbling from his bed as if it had caught aflame.

His molded body didn’t move an inch, but he never took his eyes off me; they followed my every move and regarded me with no small amount of amusement. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

He seemed awfully relaxed, whereas I felt like a supernova, building in pressure, on the verge of exploding.

Rowen stayed seated, peering up at me intently through his heavy lids. Now that I was up, I scanned the rest of his enchanting spherical room. The earthy space was brimming with living plants that hadn’t been disturbed in the slightest, and the timber canopied roof leaked with the light of the stars.

Near his bed was a stack of worn, leather-bound books piled one on top of the other, and I itched to open the deckled-edge pages. At the back of the dome was a pile of transportable cooking utensils, a waterskin, and a bedroll. He could be ready to flee and live in the woods at a moment’s notice.

More bound books lined the shelves, along with heaps of loose parchment; sticks of charcoal, feathers, crystals; and various pointy objects that looked deadly if in the right hands.

My gaze circled back to his canopy-encased bed, where I noticed a talisman of sorts hanging from the middle of the netting. The outer frame came together in an intricate prism of twigs and shimmering twine, spiraling towards a shard of crystal.

It seemed I wasn’t the only one who needed help sleeping.

There was a door to an en suite, a large wooden chest, and a small rack with hanging linen shirts and trousers. Beside the front door was a weapon rack housing a myriad of daggers, axes, and long blades.

I gulped at his lethal arsenal but wished I’d had a blade handy when Graem grabbed me.

“So,” I said, remembering I came here for answers. “Graem paid a visit to collect me and kindly take me to this Erovos prick I’ve been hearing so much about?” I’d been able to piece at least that much together. “Who is he, and what does he want?”

Rowen let out a troubled breath. “Erovos is a conqueror of darkness over light and destroyer of balance. Only death and destruction follow in his wake. He must have learned of the prophecy and is searching for The Marked.” Rowen stilled, his eyes lost in the flames. “And it appears you are now caught in the crosshairs.”

“You think Graem will tell Erovos I’m here?”

“The prophecy speaks of a male, and he is certain it cannot be otherwise. Hopefully, that will hold him off for a while.”

Suddenly, exhaustion overcame my body like a weighted blanket. The realization of everything from the past few days finally caught up with me. First, my dreams were actually happening. Second, the man I’d been obsessing over for weeks was real. Third, I could walk between worlds. And last, perhaps the most frightening of all, someone was after me.

The door of the dome rotated open as Takoda entered, carrying a crystal mug. “It is good to see you again, star-touched. Drink. The pearl root will help with your ailments.”

His words immediately reminded me of my pain. My swollen forearm ached, my shoulder throbbed, and my chest looked like someone had a field day with blue finger paint.

The rational part of my brain told me not to drink the tea, that I’d had way too many bad experiences drinking things I shouldn’t, but the caring look on Takoda’s face outweighed any further trepidation. I raised the cup to my face and inhaled the mixture of herbs, tea, and another scent I couldn’t quite place but was natural and comforting.

Slowly I took a sip, then another, immediately feeling the effects as my discomfort cleared and my limbs filled with a warmth that spread to my every aching nerve. Takoda checked me for injuries and applied a cooling textured balm to my bruises.

“Thank you,” I said, meaning it. The healing ointment and tea were already soothing my tense and battered body.

Takoda took the mug back from me and checked my pulse. “You need rest.”

“You can sleep here,” Rowen offered. “I’ll sleep outside.”

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